


You've got my signature, babe

by badthingfine_as_hell



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, F/M, JD is a dick, Masochism, Sex, veronica likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 13:37:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19831339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badthingfine_as_hell/pseuds/badthingfine_as_hell
Summary: Veronica tries to break up with J.D after he shoots the radio, but it doesn't really work. He gives her a gift instead.





	You've got my signature, babe

**Author's Note:**

> Basically that scene in the movie when Veronica breaks up with J.D and he grabs her and kisses her twice but she pushes him off. Only this time she can't really help herself (and who can blame her?).

“Veronica, now _what_ am I going to do to you?”

Clearly a rhetorical question. She could tell by the manic gleam in his eyes that he already had a few ideas. Ones that would terrify the shit out of any normal girl, things from nightmares that should have her stomach crawling, not flipping nervously in anticipation. Like she was waiting for him to finally kiss her after a first date and not for whatever fucked up shit was about to happen next.

As J.D entered his ninth minute of agitated pacing in front of the bed, Veronica noticed quite numbly that his eyes hadn’t moved from her for even a second. They were locked, locked, locked. And she was transfixed, stuck in place like he was physically holding her down. No chance for escape, no way baby.

Directly in front of her, he finally stopped. Her head tilted up of its own accord and she thought she could see hellfire in his eyes.

On top of that, she was completely naked, and he was completely clothed, down to his scuffed black boots. Which was utterly degrading, and definitely on purpose. Veronica felt quite small and vulnerable sitting on his bed with her sweaty curls sticking to her cheeks, her nipples a raw bright pink in the bedroom lighting.

J.D leaned down and grasped her chin in his hand, their noses brushed together, his lips pressed flat. She decided that those light hazel eyes (which she had once thought were the most gorgeous color she had ever seen...she still sort of thought that) were coldly inhuman. Did not belong on such a pretty face. And really, how could she have overlooked such utter malice? It didn’t take Heather Chandler choking on drain cleaner or Kurt and Ram with bullet holes in their bodies for her to recognize what he was. It took him pulling out his gun and oh so casually shooting the goddamn radio, looking back at her with an amused smirk, for her to see and to know.

Veronica could tell that her boyfriend was thinking very, very hard – his thoughts practically screamed at her. She could see blood and pain in her future. And she _should_ be making a break for the door, not looking back at him demurely through thick lashes.

When his pupils dilated so wide that she could see her pale, nude reflection staring back at her, she knew he came to a decision. Veronica tried not to despise herself as heat pooled deep in her stomach. Because whatever he had planned, she knew she was going to enjoy it on some level. Coming to terms with your deep-rooted masochism via a sadist, serial killer boyfriend could give quite a blow to one’s self esteem.

J.D straightened up and grinned at her, mostly bared his teeth. He backed into a black leather chair in the corner of the room, sat up straight, hands on the armrests. Of course he looked like a god.

Then he crooked a finger at her. “On my lap.”

Veronica resisted the urge to stand up instantly and straddle him like an obedient _whore_. She had no idea what he had in mind for her, but she knew the effect she had on him. She could potentially gain back some power, maybe make things a little easier for herself.

Veronica stood up slowly and gave him a small, flirty smile. “Of course,” she purred in a voice not unlike the one she used with Kurt on the phone. She had the pleasure of seeing his smug expression falter for just a moment, tongue darting out to lick his lips, before his face smoothed over into careful indifference.

“Now,” he said impatiently, and she went to him, swinging her hips. He laid her down on her stomach across his thighs, her face pressed into the cool leather of the chair and her bare back centered on his lap.

Rough, calloused fingers rubbed the skin directly above the curve of her ass. “I’m gonna give you something special, Ronnie.” She heard his smile. “Something that you’ll enjoy.” The click of a switchblade.

Her head whipped around to stare at him, eyes wide, but she made no move to scramble out of his lap. She told herself it was because he wouldn’t let her go anyways, but that wasn’t really the truth.

“Are you going to hurt me, J.D?”

A slight tinge of desire crept through her tone. No hiding it, especially from him. Truly, truly a masochist. Maybe that was why she stayed with Heather Chandler for so long. That is, until she found another sadist who took things to a whole new level.

J.D licked his lips before answering. “Not much.”

She settled her forehead back down on the armrest. He was stiffening up beneath her stomach, which really should have grossed her out except she was getting wet and he would notice soon enough if he hadn’t already. She sighed when she felt the tip of the blade ghost over her skin.

“Good girl.” An undercurrent of awe in his voice. He was probably astounded that he managed to find someone as fucked up as he was and in such a complementary way.

“It’s only two letters,” he continued conversationally, as he traced “JD” with the knife. She just managed to get her teeth around the leather when the point bit into her skin, and her hot, hot blood met the surface.

“Or maybe I’ll just go for the whole thing. You called me Jason Dean when we first met, remember?” His voice lowered an octave. The blood must’ve been doing something for him.

“J.D,” she ground out, trying to keep the pain out of her voice. “Please.”

An amused sigh and he sliced down, earning a bloodcurdling shriek that ripped from her throat. “J.D it is, darling.” He fisted the back of her curls and yanked her head up. “Now let me hear you, yeah?”

Veronica whimpered and shrieked and begged and moaned as he carved his initials into her skin. Two little letters hurt so much more than she could have imagined, she’d never even gotten a cooking nick so this was pain was new. Her blood was gushing red and hot all over her back and into his lap, the chair. Thank god his dad had left or he would have thought his son was committing murder. But who was she kidding, right? Big Bud Dean probably wouldn't give a fuck. Only God knows what J.D’s past looked like, how bloody it was.

She bucked up, couldn’t help it, when he started on the ‘D.’ He pushed her back down and smiled an angelic smile, her blood under his fingernails and his free hand tightening on the middle of her back. His thumb started rubbing in a painful caricature of caress and when he hummed, almost a moan, she rubbed her stomach against his erection.

“All done. _Fuck_.” The knife hit the wall. “C’mere.”

J.D pulled her up, paying no heed to the _bleeding wound_ in the shape of his name. She straddled his lap anyway, painful tears involuntarily leaking from her dark brown eyes. She buried her face in his neck and tried to stifle the sobs as her skin stretched with the new position and spilled new blood. He rocked her, one red hand sliding down down down. Too close.

“Hush, Ronnie.” Her hair was pulled back and their faces were touching. Her lower lip wobbled and her eyes screamed hatred, but she leaned in to kiss him anyway. If she was going to hell (no doubt about that at this point) she might as well have some fun along the way.

J.D immediately sunk his teeth into her lower lip. “You were so good for me,” he growled, nipping and licking the raw flesh. “God, Veronica. You’re meant to be mine.”

Her hands buried themselves in his hair. “I know.” She pressed feverish kisses to his cheeks, nose, eyelids. Who else would be grinding down on his lap after being disfigured? Only her. It both terrified her and made her squirm in desire.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

She complied instantly, and he stood up, carrying her to the bed. “The blood,” she protested, shying away from the sheets.

“I can wash.”

He dumped her on the bed, and she let out another scream from the pain. His eyes darkened at the noise and he took off his coat. Finally. Then his shirt. Boots. Socks. Belt. Pants. Boxers. Her thighs spread wider and wider with each new development. Soon, he was tugging on his cock and staring down at her with enough lust to burn the world.

And Veronica got an idea.

Very, very slowly, she rolled onto her stomach, stretching out over the length of the bed. She angled her back towards him so he could see his name etched into her skin. Her reward was a low, dark moan and the bed dipping down with his weight.

“Veronica. Fuck.”

“That’s the idea.”

She cried out when his hot tongue laved over the cuts. Her spine curved as he licked all the way up to her ear.

“Can’t leave me now.” He bit her earlobe then swiped his tongue across her cheek, his mouth covered with her blood, staining her skin too. “You’re mine. Your fucking soul belongs to me.”

J.D paused, and she felt like she was going to cum right there on his sheets when he rubbed his hardness against her ass. “Sorry I scared you earlier. With the radio thing.”

Veronica recalled the absolute, demonic _rage_ in his eyes when she told him it was over. He had yanked her arm hard (she knew she was going to have bright blue finger-shaped bruises) and thrown her back on the couch, his mouth crushing down against her own. She managed to scramble out of his arms the first time, but when he caught her again and his elbow dug into her side, she gasped and her lips parted. His tongue slipped into her mouth, her eyes fluttered shut, and she knew she was damned. Her hands snaked through his hair and she arched against him as licked inside her mouth. Veronica barely noticed the brief, triumphant smirk against her lips when she rolled her hips into his.

She ended up spreading her legs for him right there on the couch, only seconds after they heard his father leave. He ripped her clothes off and fucked her harder than she ever thought possible. The cold fury in his eyes gave way to lust as she squirmed and moaned beneath him, her ankles crossed against the small of his back and her tits bouncing with each thrust.

When they were both done, J.D wasted no time in tucking himself back into his jeans and grabbing her by the neck, giving a sharp squeeze that had her spluttering when he finally let up. He then scooped her, boneless, into his arms and carried her to his room, tossing her on the bed before starting to pace.

Veronica shivered when J.D brushed his fingers against her bare sex. “But you should know better than to try that shit with me. That was very, very mean.” Snickering in her ear when he felt how wet she was. At least she had the decency to blush. “If you ever think about leaving me again, remember this.”

White hot pain when he reached between their bodies and dug his fingers into her wound. She let out a strangled cry. “You dick!”

“You laid down and took it,” he reminded her, smiling with red teeth. Tears and blood seeped into the bed. It was gory and gross and Veronica was so, so wet. “The hottest thing I’ve ever seen. All fours, baby.”

She felt her cheeks and wound burn when she lifted her hips and pressed her face into the mattress, completely open to him. His nose nudged against her folds as he got to his knees. “Have I told you already that you have the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen?”

She was seconds away from letting out an indignant shriek. Just how many _cunts_ have you seen J.D?! But then he was diving in face first, all tongue and lips and hot breath and she was absolutely incapable of anything but incoherent noises as he ate her out from behind. Knife wounds be damned.

Their moans mixed together as he placed both hands on her ass and spread her pussy wider. When he finally pulled away and they locked eyes, his mouth was slick with the blood from her back and the desire from her sex. He licked his lips with a wicked grin and nudged his cock close to her entrance, shoving her face back down into the bloody sheets.

He slid in easily, making a low, long noise of approval, before starting to guide her hips back and forth. Without warning, he started a brutal pace producing sounds explicit enough to make her ears turn pink. He felt so big and hard and so, so _good_ inside of her that she momentarily forgot all about the ‘gift’ carved into her back.

“Break up with me, huh?” Low laughter in between thrusts. “Don’t see that happening, sorry Ronnie.”

She could only moan. His taunting was getting her so close to the edge, and she didn’t want to say anything that would make him stop because then she would feel only the mind-numbing pain with no pleasure to take the edge off.

His rhythm changed and she was seeing stars now. He was talking fast, faster than she could comprehend, but she could tell it was all smut. Praises and filth and threats. Her head was yanked up by her hair, a familiar sensation now.

“I love you so fucking much,” he moaned, his other hand leaving bruises on her hip as he slammed into her. “Can’t ever leave me.”

She came with a cry of his name and he followed in one, two, three hard thrusts, collapsing onto her back and making her wound sing. He pressed his face into her sweaty neck, couldn’t seem to resist sinking his teeth into her skin.

“Say it back,” he mumbled, arms tightening around her. When she didn’t respond, too blissed out from the terrible mixture of pain and pleasure to do anything but breathe, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look in his eyes. “Say you love me,” he hissed.

“I hate you.”

His eyes widened. She thought he was actually going to kill her this time, but then his lips were twisting into a grin and he was leaning in to lazily lick at her ear. “Close enough, darling.”

She was just nodding off when she felt his lips move to her hair, pressing surprisingly gentle kisses in her curls.

“We have so much work to do.”


End file.
